In “Crush,” Ada Calhoun’s fiction debut, a woman’s carefully constructed life implodes when her husband suggests opening their marriage. What follows is a narrative both exhilarating and exhausting—a midlife awakening that encompasses intellectual connection, sensual discovery, and spiritual revelation. The novel attempts to dismantle conventional notions of fidelity while exploring one woman’s journey toward authentic selfhood after decades of prioritizing others’ needs.
Calhoun, best known for her nonfiction works like “Why We Can’t Sleep” and the celebrated memoir “Also a Poet,” brings her characteristic blend of cultural analysis and personal revelation to this story. While the novel shines in its portrayal of intellectual desire and midlife reinvention, it struggles with uneven character development and occasionally veers into spiritual territory that may alienate some readers.
The Plot: When “Good” Women Go Rogue
Our unnamed narrator is a successful ghostwriter, wife to Paul (a perpetually unfulfilled artist), and mother to teenage Nate. She’s built her identity around responsibility—supporting her family financially, tending to her dying father, and maintaining friendships. Her long-term marriage to Paul has reached a comfortable, if sexually limited, plateau.
When Paul suggests she could explore kissing other men, it unlocks something dormant within her. During a research trip to London, she kisses an old friend, and upon returning home, begins corresponding with David, a religious studies professor from college. What begins as literary exchange escalates into emotional intimacy that surpasses anything in her marriage:
“We read a book about Kabbalah that talked about ‘a fallen spark from the World of Love.’
Yes! I thought. That’s what I’ve caught! A spark!”
Their eventual physical encounter in California transcends sex, becoming a full-blown mystical experience that permanently alters her perception. This awakening forces a reevaluation of her marriage, ultimately leading to divorce and a cautious reconstruction of her life with David at its center.
Critical Analysis: Strengths and Weaknesses
Eloquent Exploration of Midlife Desire
Calhoun’s greatest achievement is her nuanced portrayal of desire past 40. The narrator’s awakening feels simultaneously ridiculous and profound—which is precisely how these midlife revelations often manifest. The intensity of her connection with David is made believable through their shared literary references and philosophical explorations.
The novel excels when depicting the heady rush of intellectual attraction:
“I’d been having sex for decades by that point. I thought I was good at it. I would have said before that moment that I’d had plenty of good sex. And yet on that day, it felt as though I were doing everything for the first time.”
Uneven Character Development
While the narrator is fully realized, other characters sometimes function more as plot devices than people. Paul shifts between enlightened polyamorist and petulant child as the narrative requires. David remains somewhat idealized—his flaws conveniently align with the narrator’s needs. The only exception is Veronica, the narrator’s closest friend, whose pragmatic advice provides necessary ballast.
Literary Aspirations vs. Accessibility
The novel overflows with references to philosophers, poets, and novelists—from Ralph Waldo Emerson to Whitman to Auden. This richness will delight literary readers but might alienate others:
“My desire was everything I’d been led to believe was possible when in my adolescence I’d encountered the erotic one-two punch of Jane Eyre and the Family Ties episode where Michael J. Fox gets together with Tracy Pollan.”
These literary touchpoints sometimes feel like intellectual showcasing rather than organic elements of the narrator’s internal life.
The Spiritual Experience Problem
The most divisive aspect of “Crush” by Ada Calhoun is its portrayal of sex with David as a religious experience. The narrator describes it as transcendent and life-altering:
“Every hair on my body stands up, straining to hear the next line. My breath, his breath, the fan all breathe in and out together, rising and falling. The bed is made of moss, the sheets giant green leaves, as alive as we are.”
This mystical framing risks reducing a complex human relationship to something divinely sanctioned, potentially absolving the narrator of responsibility for her choices. It’s a risky narrative strategy that some readers will find profound while others may see it as convenient justification.
Thematic Strengths
Reimagining Marriage
Despite its flaws, “Crush” by Ada Calhoun offers valuable insights into how traditional marriage frameworks can stifle authentic needs. The narrator and Paul’s attempt at polyamory fails not because non-monogamy itself is flawed, but because they approach it without proper communication, boundaries, or self-awareness:
“Using words like ‘polyamory’ or ‘primary versus secondary partners’ keeps deep sexual and romantic attachments in check about as effectively as prison bars trap a ghost.”
Women’s Self-Discovery
The novel’s strongest element is its depiction of a woman reclaiming her desires after decades of self-denial. The narrator’s journey from dutiful wife, daughter, and mother to a woman pursuing her own needs feels revolutionary precisely because society so rarely encourages women to prioritize themselves:
“The truth—Emersonian glosses aside, and regardless of the fact that David and I hadn’t touched—was that I was courting something that in pretty much every culture throughout history is a sin.”
Intellectual Intimacy
Calhoun convincingly portrays the erotic power of shared intellectual passion. The narrator and David’s exchange of ideas transforms into the most profound connection of their lives:
“In spite of how many hours I spent on his care, I couldn’t seem to keep him safe or make him well…And yet he resisted—with impressive thoroughness—my efforts to provide us a happy ending in which he was nicer to me.”
Style and Structure
Narrator’s Voice
The first-person narration blends self-awareness with blind spots in a compelling way. The narrator knows she’s being reckless yet justifies it through literary and philosophical frameworks, creating an interesting tension:
“Was the idea of an open marriage traditionally more appealing to men than women because of some kind of back-brain insecurity women had by virtue of facing more consequences from pregnancy than men? Indoctrination into fairy-tale fantasies about exclusive soulmate romance? Or could it be that, even in the age of reliable birth control, we hadn’t let ourselves desire more?”
Pacing Issues
The novel’s middle section, where the narrator and David exchange thousands of words daily while maintaining physical distance, occasionally drags. Their epistolary romance, while central to the plot, sometimes feels repetitive.
Comparative Context
Readers who enjoyed Meg Wolitzer’s “The Female Persuasion” or Sally Rooney’s exploration of intellectual connection in “Normal People” will find much to appreciate in “Crush.” The novel also fits within the tradition of “marriage in crisis” literature like Sue Miller’s “Monogamy” or Lauren Groff’s “Fates and Furies,” though Calhoun’s spiritual elements set it apart.
Unlike her contemporary Emily Henry, who writes lighter romantic fiction, Calhoun aims for something more literary and philosophical, closer to Rachel Cusk’s “Outline” trilogy in its introspection, if not its style.
Final Assessment
Strengths:
Insightful exploration of midlife desire
Rich literary influences that enhance the narrative
Compelling portrayal of intellectual attraction
Clear-eyed examination of traditional marriage constraints
Thoughtful depiction of a woman reclaiming her needs
Weaknesses:
Uneven character development beyond the narrator
The spiritual/mystical elements may strike some as contrived
Occasional literary name-dropping feels forced
Some sections of correspondence become repetitive
The ending feels somewhat too neat given the complexity of the situation
Verdict: A Flawed but Fascinating Debut Novel
“Crush” by Ada Calhoun is an imperfect but compelling examination of desire, obligation, and self-discovery in middle age. While the mystical elements and literary showcasing may alienate some readers, the core story of a woman awakening to her authentic needs resonates powerfully.
Calhoun has crafted a novel that asks important questions about what we owe others versus what we owe ourselves, and how we might build relationships that honor both. Though the answers sometimes feel too convenient, the questions themselves matter deeply. As the narrator observes near the end:
“What does a true happy ending look like? I think it’s always a surprise.”
For readers willing to embrace both the novel’s insights and its occasional indulgences, “Crush” by Ada Calhoun offers a thoughtful meditation on love, desire, and reinvention after forty. While it won’t satisfy everyone (particularly those seeking more grounded relationship dynamics), Calhoun’s fiction debut demonstrates the same keen cultural observation that made her nonfiction work so resonant.
The novel will likely spark heated book club discussions about fidelity, desire, and whether mystical experiences can justify upending one’s life. Whether readers find the narrator’s choices inspiring or infuriating, “Crush” succeeds in provoking reflection on how we might all live more authentically—even if that means shattering the containers we’ve carefully constructed around our lives.